Memories
by The Seamonkey
Summary: A collection of short memories from my own life, transposed into the Harry Potter world and told through the perspective of Hermione. All HHr.
1. Tobogganing

**Disclaimer: All I own are the memories.**

**A/N: Hullo again, all. Yes, I'm back! This is the first of a collection of memories from my own life that I have transposed to fit the Harry Potter world. They will all be from Hermione's perspective, and not very long. Have fun reading, and feel free as always to leave even the shortest of reviews!**

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"All right, this time let's go together."

I blink. I glance at him sideways. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No, come on!" he laughs.

"There's no _way_ we'll both fit on that thing."

"Sure there is!"

"Have you ever done it before?"

"What, two people at once? No, not exactly…but it's fine, look I'll sit right behind the bindings, and you sit between them."

"But…" Now I'm just protesting because I don't want to seem like I want to do this. My stomach has erupted in butterflies. There is nothing I want more to do right now than what he is suggesting, in fact. This is purely for appearance's sake.

"Oh, come on," he teases. "You scared?"

"_No_," I reply, sticking out my tongue at him.

"Then?"

I look at the tiny toboggan. I sigh, long and heavily. He grins and positions it at the top of the hill. "Do you want to sit down first, or me?" he asks, and I gesture for him to. He does, just behind the bindings, and pats the space in front of him. His heels are dug into the snow on either side so that we won't go flying down the instant I sit. I hesitate for a second, then come over and plunk myself down between the bindings.

"Lean back," he tells me. I am only too happy to do so, blushing as I press up against his chest and thank the stars that he's behind me and can't see my face. I haven't blushed in years. He pushes us backwards a little, and lifts his feet off the ground, swinging them in front of me into my lap as always happens when there is more than one person on a toboggan. "You ready?"

I laugh and nod.

"Okay, here we go!"

He pushes us forward with his hands, then immediately wraps his arms around me. We take off, both of us whooping and guffawing. My stomach has been left somewhere above us around the top of the hill, but the butterflies have remained. I am not sure how this is quite possible, but it seems to be, because it is happening. We fly down the hill, catching air over bumps and having a thrill. When the snowbank at the bottom looms up, I shriek in delight, and he leans forward and says into my ear, "Lean to the right!"

We both do so, and we careen sideways into the snow, sending white powder flying five feet into the air in all directions. We both collapse in helpless laughter and lie in a tangled heap for a minute or so. When we can move again, we try to disentangle ourselves from each other and somehow manage to get to our feet, both still laughing. His tousled black hair is covered in snow and falling into his eyes.

He looks at me, smiling, for a few seconds, then grins and says in a wicked voice, "Wanna go again?"


	2. In the Rain

**Disclaimer: I only own the memories.**

**A/N: And here's the second instalment, real quicklike. Enjoy!**

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It is just after dusk. The streetlights should be coming on any minute. He is teaching me how to fly on a broomstick again. I am doing well, considering it's been so long. He takes my hand and puts his other one on the small of my back, guiding me as I gingerly mount the broom. He pushes me gently from behind and I rise slowly into the air, him walking beside me all the way.

"Whoa," I say as I wobble a little. His grip on my hand tightens for a second.

"Don't let go, you're fine," he assures me. "Relax a bit. Don't keep your elbows locked." I follow his instructions and actually find it easier to balance. "There you go," he says. "That's better."

I slowly start to loosen my grip on his hand as I gain confidence. He lets go, gives me a barely tangible push with the hand on my back, then lets that one go as well. He is still walking beside me, but I am on my own. I straighten up a bit. I am proud of myself. I lean forward and accelerate the tiniest bit, then resettle my pace. A grin breaks out on my face.

"Good!" he says with enthusiasm. "See? You're getting it!"

I laugh, and spot a largish tree up just ahead. "Uh oh," I say as it nears.

"Don't worry, just lean slightly to go around it—" he starts to say, and I lean and start to turn, but suddenly it's right beside me and the tail twigs of my broom have caught in the low-hanging branches and I'm pitching forward. He springs ahead and catches me as I fall. I'm scared, but I know he won't let me hit the ground. I find myself on my feet. I'm laughing; he is too. I look up at him. He has one hand on my upper arm, and one around my waist. He removes the latter and glances down at it awkwardly. I take it, a thrill slowly building up in the base of my stomach, and turn it over between my own, inspecting for something—I don't know what. Neither of us quite knows what's happening.

The hand on my arm is inching up towards my shoulder. I am acutely aware of every touch; my senses are tingling. I am still staring at his hand in both of mine, running my fingers over his in the scarce space between us. When the other one reaches my collarbone, I glance up at him wonderingly. His dark green eyes are already trained on mine. I feel the beginnings of a blush working its way up into my face, and then his cool fingers brush the side of my neck. My heart is beating so loudly that I am positive that he—and anyone else within fifty kilometres—can hear it. I am suddenly very aware that there _is_ no one else around.

A very light rain begins to fall, just a sprinkling of water from the sky. We don't care a whit. His hand is now slipping into my hair. I turn my face up to his, angling it properly, and experience a very odd light-headedness as he tilts his towards me. My breath catches. His mouth touches mine…I am dizzy even with my eyes closed. My hands come up, hesitantly taking his head between them. He wraps his other arm around my waist again and pulls me closer.

The broom hangs forgotten on a branch a few feet away. I smile into the kiss, eyes still closed, and loop my arms around his neck. The rain is getting a trace heavier; our clothes are starting to absorb the wet. Neither of us cares.

"Harry?"

An all-too-familiar voice calls from an all-too-short distance away. Ron is coming towards us on the grass. Harry and I spring apart like startled deer. Ron approaches.

"Who's that wi—_Hermione?_"

"Hi, Ron," I say, turning a furious colour of red. Did he see us? Now he is almost level with us by the tree. Harry and I are still standing only a foot apart.

"Were you two just…?" Ron trails off, looking from Harry to me and back again. He and I glance at each other and burst out laughing. "What were you just doing!" Ron asks again. I can't stop giggling; it is the guiltiest sound I have ever heard come out of my own mouth. Ron has stopped walking and is staring at us incredulously. "You weren't…"

Both Harry and I nod sheepishly.

"When did you—!"

We glance at each other. "Sort of…just now," he says after a second or two. I giggle. Ron doesn't look as though he entirely believes us. He shakes his head and waves to us.

"Well, I'll leave you two _alone_ then," he says, sticking out his tongue. I know from his grin that I will never hear the end of this.

When he has gone around the corner out of sight, Harry and I turn to face each other. I can't help it; I start to laugh again. It is infectious. We stand there in the rain for who knows how long, unable to stop. Finally I straighten up. "Well, _that_ was awkward!"

We're gone again.


End file.
